


The Way That We Love

by MarziPanda95



Series: No Hope, No Love, No Glory [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Christmas, Dancing, Fluff and Angst, Hope, Hopeful Ending, Implied Bullying, Implied/Referenced Verbal Abuse, M/M, Not Beta Read, People Not Using Their Words, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sara Is a Good Bro, Sara plays cupid, Secrets, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Until they aren't, everyone is sad, secret reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2017-12-14
Packaged: 2019-02-14 19:49:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13014933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarziPanda95/pseuds/MarziPanda95
Summary: Sequel to 'No Hope, No Love, No Glory'.Sara is tired of Emil and Mickey dancing around their feelings. But even when the two of them are finally together, something's being held back. Someone isn't telling the whole truth.Michele finally has the man of his dreams. But they aren't soulmates, and at any minute, Emil could meet his real soulmate and leave. He's rightfully terrified. But Emil is keeping something from him...The longer Emil keeps the secret of his soulmark from Mickey, the more devastating he knows the reveal will be. Eventually, it will come to light. Everything he worked for will come crashing down.





	The Way That We Love

Michele doesn’t realise he has been falling in love with Emil, slowly, for years, until that one Grand Prix Final. Michele doesn’t qualify (he almost had, but Katsuki beats him by a hair) and neither does Emil, but Sara does. Of course, he goes to Barcelona to support her. On a bizarre sudden impulse, he invites Emil. He doesn’t know why. He just really wants Emil there. He doesn’t expect Emil to accept, but he does.

 

Then he’s in the audience with Emil, watching the skaters who had bettered them. He noticed, at their last competition together in Russia, that Emil likes touching Michele. Nothing intimate, or perverted. Just an arm around his shoulders, around his waist, a brush of a beard against his cheek. It’s as if Emil wants to make sure Michele is really there. Wants to be close. Wants to make sure Michele isn’t alone.

 

It’s during one of Katsuki’s skates that Michele realises it. He’s watching Emil watch Yuri. The gentle look on Emil’s face makes Michele’s heart swell. And the next time Emil brushes against him it makes him feel odd. Like he wants more. He takes in a sharp breath, and that’s when the realisation hits him. He is in love. He has been in love for years with this ridiculous, silly, energetic man. It’s what he always wanted, to choose his own path in love.

 

But the happiness stops in its path. Emil. Emil must care about soulmates, surely? He’s the kind of man to care about that. Michele doesn’t know how many times he has sat through Emil talk about how romantic the whole thing is, how he loves to watch TV shows and films with romantic soulmate meetings.

 

For the next couple of weeks, Michele pines from afar. He almost doesn’t accept Emil’s invitation to the Christmas party, but Sara forces him to go. He ends up very glad that she did.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Sara is sick and tired of her brother and Emil dancing around each other. They are very clearly in love and don’t know how to tell each other. She knows the two of them didn’t have the best of first meetings, all those years ago, but they seem to have put that behind them. She had been horrified at Mickey’s words to Emil back then. She feels guilty that he’d said them because he was trying to protect her, so they play on her mind on lonely nights when Mila is away. She can’t understand why, but what Mickey said to Emil back then becomes something of an obsession. Perhaps it’s because he didn’t properly apologise for it, or perhaps it’s because nobody has ever brought it up again. Either way, that event was a long time ago, and she doesn’t think it’s the reason why Emil and Mickey haven’t given up and kissed yet.

 

She finally gets her opportunity to play cupid when Emil hosts a Christmas party at his apartment in Prague, a couple of weeks after the Grand Prix Final Yurio won. He has invited all the skaters he knows, and most have shown up. Thankfully the snow hasn’t been heavy enough for the airports to delay anything. It gives the whole event a nice atmosphere, and she sits in front of the wide front window with Mila to watch it fall. They are lucky to get this moment to themselves. She has her head on Mila’s shoulder. Mila is nursing a cocktail (Sara suspects it is at least 60% vodka) and Sara sips her wine in comfortable silence. Their free hands are laced together and she gives Mila’s hand a squeeze – feels her heart flutter at the squeeze she gets back. Behind them, the other skaters are conversing, dancing to the Christmas music, arguing.

 

Eventually, Sara breaks the comfortable silence.

 

“I have to get Emil and Mickey together.” She says softly. Mila chuckles lightly.

 

“Are you sure that’s wise? They aren’t soulmates. Those relationships only end badly.” Mila breaks their hand contact so she can run a hand through Sara’s long hair instead.

 

“It doesn’t matter. They’re in love. Anyone can see that. Screw destiny. They should make their own destiny. Mickey used to say that when we were kids.”

 

The two of them come up with a plan to get the two men under the mistletoe that Emil has affixed to his kitchen doorway. Already it has seen a lot of action, mostly from Victor, who loves to drag Yuri under it to demand kisses – half because he wants them, and half to piss off Yurio. In the end the plan isn't as complicated as they thought, and she ends up dragging Mickey to a waiting Emil and pushing them physically together. She points to the mistletoe and smirks. They both turn a bright shade of red and look at each other awkwardly.

 

“It’s just a kiss!” She put her hands on her hips. “Where’s your Christmas spirit?”

 

The two men look at each other again and finally, Emil steps closer. He tilts Mickey’s chin up with a finger and leans in. Their lips meet. Sara had been expecting something chaste, sweet, that maybe could lead to more in the future. But then Mickey kisses back, hard, pushing Emil into the doorframe. Emil lets out a soft moan and tangles a hand in Mickey’s hair for better leverage to plunder his mouth.

 

Sara shares a surprised look with Mila. She hadn’t expected that. It’s almost as if… she shakes her head. No, if they had been soulmates, Emil would definitely have mentioned. Wouldn’t he?

 

Mickey spends the next week with Emil in Prague before he finally flies home for Christmas. There’s a bright, happy smile on his face that speaks volumes. Sara eventually corners him.

 

“Spill! What happened with you and Emil? Are you… together?”

 

Mickey rubs the back of his neck. He shrugs a shoulder.

 

“We talked a lot. I told him I hadn’t met my soulmate yet, but that I didn’t care because I love him. And that I’d been holding back because he hasn’t met his soulmate yet, either.” And there’s that adorable blush, again. “I didn’t think he’d feel the same. He’s the type to hold out for his soulmate, don’t you think? I was surprised. I said we should date at least until one of us meets their soulmate, but he didn’t like that idea.”

 

“He doesn’t want to date?” Sara raised an eyebrow. The way Emil had kissed Mickey told her differently.

 

“The opposite.” Mickey looks very confused. “He wants to pick me _over_ his soulmate.”

 

A suspicion starts to grow in Sara’s mind. She looks up and down Emil’s arms carefully when they next see each other, at New Year’s, but she can see nothing. When Emil comes to see them in June, he wears shorts, and Sara can see nothing on his legs, either. They go to the beach. Emil doesn’t take off his shirt, even in the ocean, and her suspicions are confirmed. He doesn’t want them to see his soulmark.

 

She and Mila start to theorise reasons for this. The words could be embarrassing. Perhaps they specifically mention Mickey, and it would be painful for her brother to see it. Perhaps he is protective over it. Most people keep theirs private, because otherwise someone can come up to them and say those words to try to force it. Or, maybe, Emil has already met his soulmate but they didn’t get along, or the soulmate died – which would make the most sense. Emil wants to pick Mickey over the soulmate. The two of them are as close and as loving as any soulmates she knows, which is odd. Except…

 

Except… there’s something she’s missing. She knows there is. Mickey and Emil are very happy together, even if Mickey does come to her one night, feeling insecure. He tells her Emil won’t take off his shirt in private, either. By the blush spreading on Mickey’s face, she can guess under what circumstances.

 

She doesn’t understand what she’s been missing until the skating season starts up again the next winter. Mickey and Emil have been dating for almost a year by this point. It likely hasn’t been totally innocent, but she knows they can’t have gone all the way, or Mickey would have told her what he discovered Emil’s soulmark to be.

 

They’re at a new rink in South Korea. The skates are all long over and most of the skaters have moved on to the press conference or gone back to the hotel. The signs are very confusing. She is looking for the bathroom, but gets totally lost. She can’t read any Korean. In the end she gives up and walks through a random door. It turns out to be an empty changing room. She turns to leave, but her eyes catch on something. Not _quite_ empty. Someone is sleeping on one of the benches. Someone tall. She goes to wake them, because she doesn’t want them to be locked in. To her great surprise, it’s Emil. He is fast asleep, one arm on his chest and the other hanging over the side of the bench. He must be exhausted. His skate had been fast paced and exciting, but tiring. She reaches out a hand to wake him, but then her eyes catch on the dark handwriting on his chest. Her heart beats faster. Is it?

 

She leans in. The mark stretches from collarbone all the way down into the hem of Emil’s trousers. It’s the biggest mark she’s ever seen. Emil’s arm obscures the last few words, but as she starts to read, she freezes.

 

_Fuck off you annoying little prick! How dare you speak to-_

The day Emil and Mickey met comes back to her with sharp clarity. She’d been sure Mickey had said something whilst she wasn’t looking, a ‘go away’, maybe. But these words are too specific, and she remembers them too clearly, for them to be from any other time. No wonder poor 13-year-old Emil had looked so devastated. She can’t imagine what it must have been like, growing up with those words blazoned on his chest since birth. What had his family thought? And when he finally understood what those words meant, how had it affected him?

 

Her eyes fill with tears and her heart aches.

 

“Oh, Emil…”

 

* * *

 

Emil is so, so screwed. For all these years he has been drinking in anything Mickey would give him like a dying man, but now Mickey wants to give him more and he is so, so scared.

 

When Mickey is pushed in front of him, under that mistletoe, he can’t stop himself. He is drawn to Mickey like a magnet, as all soulmates are. He tips Mickey’s chin up and captures his lips. He wants to keep the kiss brief, chaste, but as soon as they connect he feels a rush go through him. It’s exhilarating, addictive. But, oh, Mickey is _kissing him back_ hard and pushing him to the doorframe, so he has to tangle his fingers in that hair, a move he’s practiced in his dreams a hundred times, he has to have _more more more-_

They don’t talk about it until the next day, when the two of them are finally sober. Mickey tells him that he has loved him for a long time, recently realised it, but has held back because of the whole soulmate issue. Emil makes the decision there and then that he is not going to tell Mickey. The many reasons why swirl in his head and he can’t bring himself to feel guilty when he knows he is sparing Mickey so much pain. Over the next year, their relationship develops. It goes from strength to strength but there’s something holding them back. They both know it, but only Emil understands it. It’s the heavy feeling of secrecy. It’s the nightmares he wakes up from every so often, crying out – _Zikmund, please, don’t, s-stop, please, no more, don’t say those things anymore_ – and it’s the uncertain look Mickey gives Emil when he thinks Emil isn’t watching. Mickey feels inferior, like their relationship isn’t on solid enough ground. Like Emil will leave him at any moment for his soulmate. There’s a lot of love between them, but very little trust. Emil convinces himself it’s better than the alternative.

 

Emil wakes up after a particularly exhausting skate to see Sara standing over him. He grins and is about to say something about her being an excellent alarm clock, but then he catches the look on her face. Sad, serious, and a little betrayed. He freezes in place when he realises he is shirtless.

 

“You need to tell him.” She speaks before he can, and his shoulders slump in defeat.

 

“I can’t.” He croaks back. He reached for his shirt and puts it on to cover up those words. He feels more confident as soon as they are covered. That is how it’s always been for him. Just having those words on display makes him want to curl up. Makes him feel like…nothing.

 

“Why not?” Sara keeps staring at the words until they disappear under the fabric of the shirt. He stands, because he feels so small when she’s standing over him. He runs a hand through his hair, making it stand up on odd ends.

 

“There’s a lot of reasons. You wouldn’t understand. I… listen, I just… can’t tell you, okay? But just… _please,_ don’t tell him. It’s for his own good.” Really, he just doesn’t want to get into it. He knows if he talks about it he will break down. That’s the last thing he needs right now. “I’ll… tell him eventually.” That’s not a lie. They can’t go on like this forever. “But until then, Sara, please…”

 

Sara agrees, but she gives him a time limit. Six months. In the end, he only needs one, because when Mickey finds out, it’s a complete accident. Emil isn’t prepared. It doesn’t go as he hoped.

 

* * *

 

 

Michele has been wondering what he should do for their one year anniversary for months. The Grand Prix Final comes and goes. Emil and Michele both qualify, but they don’t medal. It’s not unexpected, with both Yuris still at the top of their game and the powerhouse that is Victor Nikiforov back among them. Neither of them are too disappointed.

 

Emil invites him, Sara and Mila back to his apartment, where Emil and Michele first kissed. He’s been here plenty of times in the year between, but there’s something beautifully nostalgic about being here when it’s snowing outside. He buys Emil flowers. A big bouquet, full of red chrysanthemum, fir and holly. There aren’t a lot of flowers in season, but he’s looked up the language of flowers – hoping to be romantic. Red chrysanthemum, I love. Fir, time. Holly, defence, domestic happiness. It’s perfect for an anniversary. In response, Emil presents him with a viscaria plant. He had spotted viscaria flowers in his flower language book. It means something very familiar. Something Emil asks him a lot. Michele brushes a finger along the soft purple-pink petals and smiles. It’s very Emil. He’s surprised that Emil doesn’t take the opportunity to ask him now, but instead they all get drunk and exchange gifts and play board games. Eventually, though, Emil can’t hold back on verbalising the meaning of his flowers.

 

“Smím prosit?” Emil’s smirk is playful, teasing. It’s just the two of them now. Sara and Mila have gone to bed long ago, leaving Emil and Michele to drink and talk alone. ‘Smím prosit’ is a phrase Michele knows well by now, even if he doesn’t know much Czech. Smím prosit. Viscaria. They mean the same thing. ‘Will you dance with me?’

 

The two of them connect in the middle of the room, wrapping their arms around each other and dancing slowly. They kiss. The kiss soon turns heated. They are yet to go all the way in their relationship. Emil said he wasn’t ready. Michele knows this isn’t the whole story, but he has waited patiently. They have kept each other going with fumbling hands and mouths and text conversations too erotic to ever show to anyone.

 

Emil is enthusiastic right now, but he’s also drunk. Making out won’t hurt, but if Emil tries to take things further he will stop it. Neither of them can consent. He can’t help himself, though, when Emil makes _that noise,_ a delicious breathy moan of encouragement. Michele’s shirt comes off along the way, and he decides that isn’t fair. He hitches up Emil’s shirt, deciding that getting shirtless and falling asleep after making out would be a good anniversary. He forgets Emil’s year-long aversion to shirtlessness. Both of them are too in the moment for things to click until the shirt is long gone. It isn’t until Michele sucks a hickey onto Emil’s neck and moves down that he notices the soulmark. He stops dead. He’s never seen it before. He has wondered about it. Asked about it, but never received an answer. It seems a miracle that he’s never seen it, with how big it is. It stretches from the collarbone to the hips. He stares.

 

Then he starts to read the words, and the floor falls out from under him. He feels like someone is injecting ice into his veins. The words bring back a memory he has long forgotten.

 

_‘Fuck off you annoying little prick! How dare you speak to her like that? How dare you assume that a bastard like you could be good enough for her? You keep being that fucking annoying, and you won’t be good enough for the dirt on my shoes!’_

His eyes widen in dawning horror. By this point, Emil has stepped back, realising something is amiss. He has caught the look on Michele’s face, and now he’s looking down at his own chest as if surprised to see the words there. Michele doesn’t notice. He can only keep reading.

 

_‘You even assumed there’s a possibility you and I could be soulmates – no, that’s disgusting, you’re disgusting! I don’t want a soulmate, I’m not looking for my soulmate, and-’_

 

It just keeps getting worse and worse the more he reads. His eyes blur with tears but he keeps reading. Keeps going. He owes Emil that much, and so much more. He wants to get in a time machine and burst into the past, into his memory, and shake that younger Michele hard and scream at him to shut up, shut up, don’t you know how much you’re hurting him, hurting yourself?

 

_‘-if you were my soulmate I’d kill myself, because otherwise you would bother me to death! You would stop me protecting her! Leave us alone!’_

He feels like someone has hit him with a truck. His mind is blank. It’s a good minute before he can push out any words.

 

“Why… didn’t you tell me?” He clenches his fists, because some of what he is feeling is anger. He doesn’t understand. Emil has kept this from him. They are soulmates, and he didn’t know. He hurt Emil, likely more than he will ever understand, and he didn’t know. “Why?”

 

Emil still doesn’t say anything. The Czech man’s expression is hard to read. There’s hurt there, in those beautiful blue eyes. Regret, love. Pain. He is shaking. Something explodes inside Michele.

 

“Why, dammit?! Talk to me! Yell at me, get mad! I said all those… and growing up, must have… all this time! All this time you let me worry, and cry over us, and... didn’t you know how scared I was?!” Tears started to spill over. It isn’t until much later that he realises the hate inside him, the hate in his words, isn’t directed at Emil at all. It’s directed inwards, at himself. He hates himself, suddenly, startlingly, for how much he knows he has hurt Emil all these years. But he latches on to the pain Emil has caused him in return, because it is easier than thinking about how much he screwed up without knowing it. “I was terrified you were going to find your soulmate and leave me all alone again! A-And all this time… you knew! You knew you weren’t going to find your soulmate because _we’re soulmates and oh my god you didn’t tell me!_ ”

 

* * *

 

 

Emil can’t handle it anymore. Seeing the anger, the betrayal, the _guilt_ , everything he knew was coming, it’s too much – it’s too similar to their first meeting, to the words that play every day in his head, in his nightmares, he has, he has to leave, he has to get out of here, he-

 

He runs. He pulls on his boots, flies down the stairs and out onto the cold street. Mickey doesn’t follow him, and his heart stings at that. It’s snowing, just like the night when they first got together. He belatedly realises he has left his shirt where it fell. He’s freezing. He doesn’t feel it. All he can think about is the look Mickey gave him. Part fury, part hurt, part guilt. But overwhelming those, and the most painful of all… Emil had seen so much _self hatred_ in that open, emotional expression.

 

And that, above all those other emotions, is the worst. Because it’s not aimed at Emil. Emil can take the anger. He can take the feelings of betrayal. He can take those. But the guilt, the self hatred, those are aimed inwards. At Mickey himself. In that moment, Emil knew Mickey hated himself more than ever before. And _this_ is the reaction Emil had been so scared of. Tried so hard to avoid. Has lied and kept up barriers between them to avoid. Has hurt Mickey to avoid. More than anything, he doesn’t want Mickey to hate himself because of those words… because Emil has spent so many years doing the same. Hating himself because of that one mistake Mickey made, impulsively, stupidly.

 

It’s a stupid thing to think, but Emil thinks he has suffered enough for both of them because of these damn words. It’s not a selfless feeling, he doesn’t think. Because if Mickey hates himself because of those words, there’s a chance he will never be able to look at Emil ever again, not without a rush of guilt. Emil couldn’t be in a relationship where his lover is punishing himself every time they are together. He doesn’t want to end up _osamocený_ like his parents. So he lied. It’s ironic that Mickey and Emil had a better chance of staying together when they 'weren’t soulmates'.

 

Emil comes to a stop under a streetlight. It bathes him in a wave of orange and he looks up at it with blurry vision. Ah, he’s crying. He hadn’t noticed. He leans his bare back against the streetlight and hisses at the cold contact. He slides down to the ground and wraps his arms around his legs. Water begins to seep through the seat of his jeans but he can’t conjure up enough concern to really care beyond a mild observation of the discomfort. The snow continues to fall, slowly, silently, without remorse. It begins to bury him alive. It’s almost comforting, as if the snow is burying his feelings, muffling them under the soft and unsympathetic fluff.

 

He has no idea how long he’s out there before they find him. It could have been years, days, weeks, hours, months. Or seconds, or minutes. Maybe he had always been here. Maybe his existence began and ended under that orange streetlight.

 

“Emil…” It’s Sara. She’s leaning over him. She seems to realise that he doesn’t like being smaller than her ( _smaller than anyone, because then they can hurt him, they can pin him down and say those words over and over until he’s screaming at them to hit him already because it hurts less_ -) so she kneels next to him instead. She tries to dry his tears, but they are frozen to his cheeks. He’s shivering hard. She takes off her coat and he doesn’t resist as she puts his arms through the holes and zips it up.

 

“Let’s go home. You need to talk to him. He’s calmed down now.” She helps him stand. They shuffle slowly back to his apartment, with Mila on his other side in case he falls. He does, a couple of times. His whole body feels weak and drained. Like a newborn, or like all the feelings, bad or good, have been sucked out of him. The closer they get to the apartment the more nervous he feels and by the time Sara is unlocking the door, he is a ball of anxiety.

 

Mickey is sitting on the sofa. He is clutching Emil’s shirt like a lifeline. His face is dry but Emil can see the evidence of tears in the redness around his eyes. Emil probably doesn’t look any better. He probably looks worse, after being out in the cold for so long. He sits next to Mickey and pulls a blanket around his shoulders, after taking off Sara's coat. He doesn’t put the shirt back on. It would feel too much like hiding.

 

“I’m sorry.” Emil says before Mickey can speak. “I shouldn’t have kept it from you. I knew you were scared I would leave because you didn’t know we were soulmates. I’m sorry I let you suffer without telling you.”

 

Mickey rubs his eyes and stares at Emil’s chest.

 

“But… why?”

 

Emil sighs.

 

“A lot of reasons. Mostly because… I knew you would hate yourself if you found out. My childhood wasn’t easy because of this. But I still believed that it would all work out, once I heard these words and found my soulmate. Then when it happened, I… you see…” Emil struggles to explain in a way that won’t make it worse. “The other children, and one of my brothers, bullied me because of my soulmark. They always called me those names, and repeated the words over and over when they hurt me. So when I heard them for real, I… panicked. I forgot where I was and what was happening. I ran away. And then I couldn’t tell you, because I already loved you. You said you didn’t want a soulmate because it would stop you protecting Sara.”

 

Mickey doesn’t reply, so Emil keeps going.

 

“And then last year, we got together. You said you loved me too. And it… felt like it was too late to tell you. The longer I went without saying anything the harder it became to tell you. Knowing you loved me too… meant that it would devastate you to hear what words you’d put on my skin by mistake. You feel angry, hurt, betrayed… I could take all of those. I can’t handle you hating yourself. I can’t handle you beating yourself up every time you see this.” He pauses to gesture to the soulmark, printed on his skin in Mickey’s handwriting. “And I knew you might break up with me if you couldn’t… handle seeing this every day. I know you didn’t mean what you said. It was just a stupid mistake, a thoughtless rant. You were trying to protect Sara. You had no idea what those words would mean or how much it would haunt us. You didn’t know you’d fall in love with me. You didn’t know they’d be on my skin forever. If you ever did mean it, you don’t mean it now. So it shouldn’t matter.”

 

“But it does.” Mickey finally speaks. He stares at the sofa, at the space between their hands. Emil doesn’t disagree, because it’s true. Mickey goes on. “It matters. Because it hurt you. It’s been hurting you since you were born. You had such a shitty time, because… I made such a stupid decision.” He takes a deep breath and looks Emil in the eye. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Don’t blow this off like it’s nothing. Don’t pretend I didn’t hurt you. It matters. Your feelings matter. But I… can’t deny that I hate myself now. How could I not? I didn’t even realise you were in pain. What kind of soulmate am I?”

 

Emil inhales sharply. This is it. Mickey is about to break up with him. He’s about to say that he can’t deal with the guilt, can’t deal with how much Emil’s lies hurt him, can’t deal with all the complications. He’s about to break it off and go and find someone uncomplex, someone without all these issues stemming from a stupid five-minute conversation. Someone better. Someone not so pathetic. The words on his soulmark start playing in his head again.

 

“…But if… you can forgive me…” Mickey starts. Emil can’t believe the words are real. “…Then I can probably start to forgive myself. It won’t happen overnight but, I…” He smiles weakly, and the pieces of Emil’s heart start to fuse back together because, god, Mickey is beautiful. Mickey shuffles closer. His purple eyes are shiny with tears. “Not being with you would be too much of a punishment. Sorry. I guess I’m selfish. I can’t live without you. So… if you’ll still have me…”

 

Emil doesn’t wait any longer. He kisses Mickey hard, with everything he has, with all the pain he’s built up but all the _love_ he’s built up too, and the latter outweighs the former until the love is all he can feel, overwhelming and devastating and amazing. They’re both crying and holding each other tight. They stay like that for a long, long time. They’re both still drunk, and the conversation will likely need to be had again in the morning, but they don’t care. They need to hold each other. It helps that the vodka is in reach, and they both top up to help themselves feel better about this shitty, hopeful situation.

 

A playlist of Christmas songs has been going on in the background whilst they’ve been cuddled up together. Suddenly, Mickey seems to hear something he was waiting for, and he stands. He holds a hand out to Emil.

 

“Smím prosit?” The words sound odd coming out of Mickey’s mouth, but he hasn’t got the pronunciation wrong. He has heard the words enough times. Emil has said them enough times. Mickey is smiling. A small, soft smile that makes Emil’s heart beat an odd rhythm. Emil takes Mickey’s offered hand and tugs him into a hug. Before Mickey can protest that this is _not_ dancing, Emil begins to sway gently. He’s had enough alcohol at this point to start singing when the instrumental stops and the singing starts. Emil is famously an awful singer sober, but an excellent one drunk.

 

“I don’t want a lot for Christmas… there is just one thing I need…” He can feel Mickey’s smile against his collarbone. They continue to sway gently for the first verse. “I just want you for my own… more than you could ever know… make my wish come true…” Mickey joins in for the last line; “all I want for Christmas… is… you~”

 

They both burst into drunken laughter and fuck does it ever feel good. Mickey has the most wonderful laugh on the planet and Emil launches him into a spin, leading him in an upbeat dance when the music picks up. It’s inelegant and drunk and stumbling, and maybe they should be ashamed because skaters should be more coordinated, but they don’t care. They continue dancing when the music fades out and then collapse together in a relieved tangle on the sofa, still giggling like schoolgirls. It feels familiar – they’ve been together for a year, after all – but something’s changed. There’s no wall between them, like there was before. There are still things to talk about. Thing to apologise for, confess to. Secrets to tell. But now is not the time for it. Emil’s childhood and the extent of the abuse he’d endured because of the soulmark will have to come to light eventually. Right now, though, it is the furthest thing from his mind. He has Mickey at last, and Mickey has him. The rest will come later. For now, it is enough.

 

Someday, Mickey’s guilt will fade. Someday, Emil’s nightmares will stop. Someday, Mickey will be able to kiss those words and know that the bad feelings around the mark have dissipated. It is an inevitability that _someday_ they will love each other without regrets, without self-condemnation, without heartache or bitterness. Someday the unease will ease. The uncertainty will become a certainty that they are made for each other, and that nothing else matters, has ever mattered, will ever matter.

 

That night, as the snow fell gently outside and the two of them tangled together in each other’s arms, laughing, inseparable… yes, that was the foundation of ‘someday’.  

**Author's Note:**

> You guys asked for it, so here it is! I hope I didn't disappoint! It's a happy ending... mostly. More than that, it's a hopeful ending. That's the kind I like best. The title is, again, from Mika's 'Happy Ending'. I was considering picking from a different Mika song (specifically Origin of Love) but I thought I'd keep with the theme.   
> My laptop is finally on its last legs. Once I've updated Person of Consequence (later tonight or tomorrow) I probably won't be able to write again until I get a new one. Sorry!


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